Moon Drunk: Origins

Agincourts Do Not Quake

"They are not yet married," Gabriel says furiously, stepping between Felicite and her mother. "They cannot be alone together. I must insist that she be permitted a chaperone."

Anjolique gently touches Gabriel's arm and shakes her head. "We've no choice in the matter, Gabriel. And you will not be able to protect her if he executes you.  His people do not understand the concept of the Honor Guardian, and in his eyes, you are yet another thing for him to conquer. Felicite, you must win the king, and you must do it tonight." She lowers her voice and whispers into Felicite's ear. "You are an Agincourt princess. Agincourt princesses do not quake and tremble with fear. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Lady Mother," Felicite says reluctantly.

"Are you fertile?" Lady Margrithe asks, as gently as possible. Felicite feels her cheeks redden with humiliation as they discuss her physical condition as though she is nothing more than livestock. Gabriel turns from the conversation to avoid embarrassing her further; at least one person in this household is mindful of her feelings.

"Her courses are regular," Anjolique nods. "And the physician insists she is healthy. Let us pray to the Ancestors she has no trouble conceiving."

Lady Margrithe returns her attention to Felicite. "You understand that you must conceive his child, Felicite. If you can do this, then we may yet have a hand to play."

"I can not do this," Felicite whispers to Gabriel while her mother and aunt discuss her future, as though she is not even in the room. As if she is a mare to be bred to a prized stud.

That is precisely what she is, she realizes. She knows that this is the way of things for a princess, but to be experiencing it is another matter entirely, and the horror of it all shocks her to her core.

"You have no choice," Gabriel whispers back. "I wish there were any other way, Princess Felicite, but there is nothing I can do now." There is frustration even in his hushed tone and his eyes are alight, glowing with an amber fury.

"I cannot do it!" Felicite says, aloud this time. "I loved Jolis. I will not betray him." She holds tightly to Gabriel's comforting arm. "I know this is what is intended for me, I know that, but I cannot betray him. You cannot expect me to."

"Jolis is dead. I will not hear you speak his name again, or we shall surely join him. Julien will marry you, Felicite, but first, you will conceive his child. And that shall secure your place as Queen of the Three Kingdoms for all your eternity. It will be done. The sooner you accept it, the better."

"That is why he waited so long to come, isn't it?" Felicite asks miserably. "To ensure I was not carrying Jolis's child."

Gabriel sighs.

"Gabriel?"

"Yes," he replies.

The king rises from his chair. The music stops, and the members of his court sweep into bows and curtsies almost simultaneously. Felicite can hear her heart beating in her throat as he approaches her swiftly. The people begin the gossip the moment he holds out his hand to the princess, and there is no longer anything to be done to save her.

Julien escorts her from the room and into the private chamber, with Lady Margrithe and her own mother leading the way, and she feels like a lamb being brought to slaughter. Julien gestures for the music to begin again before dismissing Lady Margrithe and Lady Anjolique and closing the great door, leaving them entirely, completely alone. She is isolated, and now she must face the king without support. 

Within seconds, Julien crosses the room and wraps his hands around her slender waist. His touch is not rough, but her attempt to step away from him is dissuaded by the strength and firmness of his grip.